


Just Bros being Hoes

by dumplin



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Friends With Benefits, Han Jisung being a Mood, M/M, More Feelings Than I Thought There Would Be, Seo Changbin: the long suffering friend, actually friends with favours, it's a weird set of circumstances
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:48:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25152700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dumplin/pseuds/dumplin
Summary: It all started with a failed Calculus test, a sink full of dishes, and Han Jisung's infallible instinct for stuff that would make his life difficult.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Han Jisung | Han, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 104





	1. Chapter 1

It was a Wednesday afternoon, classes had just ended, and Jisung was staring at the pile of stacked dirty dishes, resenting every last one of them. It was his turn to do the dishes. It was his turn, his name was on the list, it was one of the only conditions Chan had had for Jisung moving in, and Jisung had been pretty good at keeping to the list. It was even a pretty fair list, considering Chan’s parents paid for the rent of the apartment and all Jisung had to do was provide food for himself, but right at that very moment, Jisung would rather do anything else than get up to his elbows in soapy suds and scrub the dried ramen out of a bowl. 

He’d gotten his Calculus test back today, and he knew, he  _ knew _ he wasn’t dumb, knew he was perfectly capable and intelligent but something about integrals and limits was not just not clicking for him and, in consequence, he had bombed the test. His lecturer had slipped him a note about tutor sessions and while Jisung appreciated the thought, it was poor consolation when he was staring a big, red 46 in the face. Adding to that, his shift at the restaurant had been moved without his agreeing to it, and he was now scheduled to work the entire Saturday instead of half Friday and half Saturday, as had been his habit for over a month now.

His eyes itched and he sniffed, shaking his head. He was being a baby. He could hear Chan’s music dimly through his closed door, so he’ll, he’ll just go in there and ask if they could switch days for the week, or, or something like that. Chan was reasonable, surely he’d agree to that. Surely. 

Stopping in his room to slip his bag off his shoulders, Jisung hesitated a moment before knocking on Chan’s door. He had a creeping feeling he was dodging his responsibilities, but it wasn’t like he wasn’t planning on making it up to Chan or anything. He just really needed to calm down from the day and then start working on his Calculus. His knock went unanswered, however, and after knocking two more times, Jisung rolled his eyes, imagining Chan blissed out asleep on his bed, and opened the door. 

It took a second for the scene in front of Jisung to assemble into anything that made sense, even with the way Chan let out a short, horrified yell and scrambled at his sheets, looking for cover. Jisung blinked, feeling the way his eyebrows raised, an odd sound emerging from this throat. He looked away, closed the door, took a deep breath, then opened the door again, this time to a very attentive and red-faced Chan, sheets bunched over his lap, breathing noticeably harsh and elevated. 

Jisung pursed his mouth, trying his damndest to resist the seemingly irresistible force pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Hey, hyung. Whatcha, uh, doing?”

Chan stared at him. Jisung stared right back for about five seconds before his face finally gave up the fight and collapsed into peals of delighted laughter, ignoring Chan’s annoyed sounds as he clung at the door frame. Through watering eyes, Jisung saw Chan petulantly blowing a lock of hair off his forehead, shifting uncomfortably. “Ever hear of knocking, brat?”

“I  _ did _ knock. Three times.” Still wheezing, Jisung pulled himself to a standing position. “Jeez, hyung, you really get into it, huh?”

“I-- You weren’t supposed to be home yet!” Chan grabbed at the actual alarm clock he kept on his bedside table and frowned at it, one hand still jammed on the sheets over his lap. “Yeah, see here,” he waved the clock at Jisung, which was useless since Jisung never really learned how to read analog time anyway, “it’s three pm! Doesn’t your class end at like, four?”

Jisung shrugged. “We got let out early. Something about ‘utilising our time effectively’.” 

Chan sighed, rubbing one hand across his face. “Well, that’s just, that’s just great. Well, is there any particular  _ reason _ you barged into my room like an absolute savage?”

“I  _ knocked _ hyung, jeez, it’s not like seeing you in the nude was on my to-do list. Speaking of, why  _ are _ you fully undressed?” Jisung blinked around the room, seeing the way the shades were lowered to just shy of completely closed, the two scented candles lit, filling the room with the smell of vanilla and cinnamon. The skin on the back of his neck prickled slightly, heating up, his stomach tightening. “Did…. hyung, was this a, a whole  _ thing _ ?”

Chan blinked quickly and shrugged loosely, trying just a bit too hard to look unbothered. “It’s whatever, what did you want anyway?”

Jisung considered himself to be a fairly good person, overall. He didn’t like when people were mean to animals and he believed everyone should have equal opportunities regardless of race, gender, or sexuality. You know, the normal, everyday shit. Still, to feel the welling up of his conscience at a time like this which was, objectively, quite funny, caught Jisung off guard and all his reasons for bothering Chan, for wanting to pass off his turn on the dishes felt… quite stupid and petty, really. “Ah, it was, uh, nothing. Don’t worry about it. Enjoy um,” Jisung waved vaguely, suddenly intensely aware of the friction of his too new pair of jeans against his legs, of the way his t-shirt clung damply to his armpits. 

Bang Chan, of course, dork extraordinaire but probably also the best person Jisung knew, though he would never admit it, couldn’t just let him go like that, even  _ though _ Jisung had interrupted his apparently very personal and planned out jerk off session.

“No, really, what’s up? I mean, this is just, uh, don’t worry about it.” Chan was blushing as he spoke, but Jisung could feel the sincerity through his bones, and it made a small, very unacknowledged part of him swell with warmth. 

Still, this wasn’t important enough to interrupt whatever was going on in Chan’s room. Sure, there was a mountain of dishes and  _ sure _ Jisung would actually rather fling himself out his window than deal with them, but he could suck it up for one day and do the thing that he had to do. “It’s fine, I was gonna ask you if we can switch up our dishwashing duties today, but I’ll suck it up and do it so you can deal with, uh, yeah.” Jisung let out a short burst of laughter, blinked at himself, then started to close the door. The door was almost closed when Chan let out a soft sound and Jisung froze. It was low, and sweet, and Jisung felt a shiver work its way down from the top of his head down his neck and he closed the door too suddenly, the click loud enough that Chan  _ had _ to know that the door was still open when he made that sound and--

Jisung shook his head and headed to the kitchen. Chan was jerking off in his room, and he was going to wash the dishes and not think about that. Chan was into scented candles and treating himself nicely and wow that pot was full of dried rice why were they such slobs? Halfway into scrubbing that same pot, Chan’s door opened and Chan stepped out, fully dressed, carrying the scent of vanilla and cinnamon with him. 

Jisung paused for a second, just a  _ second _ , then bent back over the pot, arm moving vigorously. A soft scoff sounded behind him and then Chan’s hip bumped against his and moved him away from the sink. “Go on, do whatever it is you gotta do. Just, next time your class has to end at a particular time,  _ stay  _ until that time.” He sniffed, and Jisung saw the red creeping up his neck. “You owe me.”

Jisung snorted, trying to ignore the weirdly laden air between them. This was supposed to be easy, no stress. It’s not like Jisung hasn’t walked in on Chan in compromising positions before, or Chan on Jisung. They lived together. It was bound to happen. This felt a bit different than opening the door while the other was changing, or loudly declaring they’re gonna use the bathroom while the other showered in the almost translucent shower, but still. Jisung tried to bring things back to normal. “What, I  _ owe _ you an orgasm? Couldn’t finish after I disturbed your mood?” Jisung laughed. 

Chan did too, but even more red crept up his neck. “Haha, very funny, go do your work or go take a nap or whatever, stop torturing your one and only friend.” 

“Hey, Changbin is my friend too!” 

Jisung couldn’t see his face, but he could almost feel the way Chan rolled his eyes. “Sure, sure. Now  _ go _ .”

And, really, Jisung was not going to argue with the man who sent him off to go take a nap, no matter how much his stomach clenched at the thought that he, apparently, owed Chan an orgasm. It sounded weird. It  _ felt _ weird. It was something silly that Jisung should have forgotten about as soon as it happened, the joke made, the moment passed. Still, Jisung found the twenty minutes he managed to make himself lie down on his bed filled with weird, nebulous thoughts about the concept of owing Chan, of Chan with himself in hand, unable to finish because Jisung put him off his groove, or some shit. Needless to say, no actual sleeping happened, and it was with a sigh that Jisung threw in the towel and towed the absolute brick of a Calculus textbook out of his bag. 

Time passed torturously, as it always did when Jisung was banging his head against the concept of Calculus, so it was barely an hour and a half later when Jisung sat back, throwing his pen on his book and flexing his hand. He’d filled about five pages with equations upon equations on graphs, and his hand was aching and he had a building headache and  _ still _ , he could hear his own voice echoing in his head, like an absolute idiot, “ _ What, I owe you an orgasm? _ ”

Jiggling his leg restlessly, Jisung turned in his spinny chair, eyes casting about his room for a distraction. They landed on his bed, and his hand twitched. 

Chan had taken over his turn at the dishes to give Jisung a chance to nap, and do some work,  _ not _ to jerk off.  _ Especially _ not to jerk off after Jisung had so rudely interrupted Chan. Jisung’s hand twitched again, plucking at the inseam of his jeans. 

He was stressed out, worn out from repressing the urge to cry in class, strung up from staring at his mistakes for an hour and a half, barely making sense of the things he got wrong in the test. This-- It would be a good destressor, right? A way to unwind and, uh, rest. Exactly what Chan would have wanted. 

_ “What, I owe you an orgasm?” _

It was ridiculous. Ridiculous, the way Jisung was already half-hard just thinking about Chan’s flushed face, the brief flash of his outstretched body, seeming almost to glow in the half-light of the room, his hand teasing over his length. Ridiculous that  _ this _ was what Jisung’s mind chose to fixate on when Jisung had literally seen Chan fully naked before, numerous times. 

_ Not like this _ , his mind murmured, playing that brief moment over and over again in Jisung’s head. Not in the midst of pleasure, not spread out, hazy, that damned scent of vanilla and cinnamon hanging in the air and Jisung knew without a doubt that, whenever he smelled it in the future he wouldn’t be able to think of anything else. 

In the end, the choice was remarkably easy. It wasn’t that different from porn, Jisung reasoned, lying back on his bed, one hand unbuttoning his jeans while the other tangled in his hair, pulling lightly. Granted, it was weird, not all that consensual porn from his roommate slash friend and actually, this probably wasn’t that great, but better out than in, right? Right. 

It didn’t take long at all for Jisung to work himself to full hardness, mind lingering on real or imagined details from earlier. Did Chan’s hips really stutter up when he’d smoothed a finger over the head of his dick, or was Jisung’s mind graciously feeding his fertile imagination? Did his neck really arch just so, or was Jisung deluding himself? 

“Are you still cool to fold the laundry or-- Oh shit.”

Chan’s voice was like cold water being thrown over Jisung’s head and, as he tensed and looked up, his hand tightened on his dick and it was with mute horror and shock as Jisung heard himself moan, full-throated, no holds barred. Chan stared at him with wide eyes which were focused on definitely not Jisung’s face and Jisung felt frozen. 

Objectively,  _ objectively _ , this was a hilarious situation. Not two hours earlier, Jisung walked in on Chan jerking off, and now, apparently in some sort of cosmic payback centered on Jisung and his audacity, Chan had walked in on him. Jisung should laugh. Jisung should tuck himself back in his pants, make some lame joke, and repress the memory of this day violently. Jisung couldn’t move. Chan was still staring. 

“Uh…” Chan was  _ still _ staring, and it didn’t help that Jisung’s cock throbbed in his grip, leaking some precome. Chan swallowed  _ loudly _ , and in some faraway part of Jisung’s mind that wasn’t in blind static panic, he registered that it was hot. Jisung waited for Chan to say something else, to say something more, to release him from this prison of his hand still squeezing his dick, from the pulsing of his cock that was now echoing in his ears. 

Chan’s mouth, which had been hanging slightly open since he opened the door, closed with a click, and he blinked, looking away from Jisung’s dick to focus on his face, a strained grimace appearing on his face. “Uh, payback, I guess?”

“Haha…” Jisung said weakly, finally able to loosen his hand. As it was loosening however, he realised his mistake and he watched with dawning horror as his dick, now released from its tight prison, apparently the only thing that had been keeping it in check, twitched once, twice, and Jisung felt his orgasm washing over him, felt his balls draw up tight, felt his face go slack and stupid as he came. In front of Chan. 

Who, for some godforsaken reason only he knew, didn’t close the door, standing there and watching as Jisung suffered probably the most embarrassing orgasm of his life, the first time he had sex and came in about two second being a close second. Jisung closed his eyes as the aftershocks hit him, not willing or able to be more physically present in the situation than he already was.

He only opened his eyes again when he heard the door shut, and he saw with mingled relief and regret he was alone in his room again. Probably for the rest of his life, if he was being honest, because there was just, just no way he was going outside and dealing with the consequences of this. 

Jisung would be the first to admit that he didn’t possess the best impulse control. He had gotten himself into various embarrassing situations throughout his life, mostly of his own making. He was practised in grinning and bearing it when it felt like his face was about to melt from blushing, when his inner voice was a constant loop of  _ whatthefuckwhatthefuck _ . 

This went a bit farther than getting caught skinny-dipping in his neighbour's pool, or downloading sexy pictures on the school computers. This went way past the point of grin and bear it, into the realm of moving away and changing your name to avoid detection. If Jisung’s life was a Wikipedia entry, this would be the inciting incident that either preceded his death or started his rapid decline into destitute anonymity. 

Jisung took a breath. He took another. He got some tissues and attempted to remove the evidence of the crime with mixed success. His wastepaper basket was underneath his desk, so, kicking his jeans off, having tucked himself back in his boxers (the Spongebob ones, which really just added insult to injury), he stretched out and tugged the basket towards him, nearly falling off his bed twice. 

He hoped Chan hadn’t heard that. He hoped Chan forgot that he had a roommate, that he had ever met Jisung, and especially that he forgot what an absolute disaster Jisung was. Just, wipe Jisung from his memory. Jisung could live in the apartment like a gremlin, emerging at ungodly hours to eat and use the bathroom, Chan waking up with a magically clean kitchen and folded laundry like he deserved because a gremlin lived in his house. 

It was simply just, is what it was. 

Jisung was lying with his head hanging upside down, feeling the way his head became tighter and tighter as his blood flow slowed, idly hoping that it would kill him, when his door opened again, this time admitting a Chan with a lowered head who closed the door behind him before looking up. Jisung was sure he didn’t imagine the relief on Chan’s face when he saw Jisung was dressed, mostly.

“So, we maybe should talk about this?” Chan’s voice lilted into a question at the end, like he hadn’t meant to pose it as one.

Jisung levered himself upright, swaying for a moment as lightheadedness overtook him before crossing his legs and facing somewhere to the right of Chan. “Do we  _ have _ to? I was kinda favouring the ‘pretending it never happened’ and ‘never looking each other in the eyes ever again’ approach.” Jisung tried a laugh, but stopped when it came out sounding decidedly more strangled than he had intended. “In fact, I had even begun working out my schedule as a nocturnal gremlin, never seeing the light of day ever again.”

A snort. “What about classes?”

Jisung crossed his arms. “I was getting to that.”

“And work?”

Rolling his eyes, Jisung turned to face Chan properly now, his current state of embarrassment pushed to the side-lines by Chan being irritating. “Well, obviously I was still working out the kinks, but I can guarantee you it’s better than whatever you’re thinking of proposing.”

Chan, a smile curling at his lips, hummed and stepped closer to Jisung’s desk, flopping down on his chair. “Better than talking about it like adults and moving past this so you don’t have to resort to being a nighttime creature?” 

“Uh, yeah, duh,” Jisung widened his eyes at Chan. “Besides, I’m only twenty years old, I’m not an adult.”

Chan leaned closer like he wanted to place a companionable hand on Jisung’s knee, a gesture that he had done hundreds of times before because that was just the type of friends they were, but then something passed across his face and he paused before retracting his hand. Jisung tried not to feel hurt by that. It was one thing walking in one your bro jerking it. It was completely another thing to walk in on your bro jerking it and then proceeding to come in front of you. Jisung tried to not to shrink into himself too visibly. 

Chan, of course, noticed, because he was Chan and he was a good guy and just this once Jisung really kind of wished he wasn’t. “Ah, sorry.” Chan shook his head, a self-deprecating smile on his face. “It’s just-- It’s a bit weird now, yeah?” Jisung nodded, looking at the way Chan’s fingers fiddled with one of the bracelets he habitually wore. Chan only did that when he was really uncomfortable. Jisung genuinely wanted the earth to open up and swallow him whole, no jokes, one hundred percent serious, would believe there was a merciful and loving God if it happened. 

“We, uh, really don’t have to talk about this.” Jisung tried to make his voice sound nonchalant. Yeah, he got caught jerking it by his friends all the time. He came in front of his friends who he may or may not have been fantasizing about on a regular basis, what are you talking about? Completely normal, everyday occurrence. Jisung took a deep breath before looking up, pasting a smile onto his face. Chan would be able to tell it was fake, but like. This was the best he could do, at the moment. “I’m really sorry you had to see that, hyung. I should have, fucking, I don’t know, have better self-control.” 

His face was bloodred. Jisung could tell from the way his cheeks were burning and the way Chan bit at the corners of his lips, obviously trying not to laugh. 

“Ah, no, Jisung-ah it was my fault. I should have actually knocked before just barging in. I just genuinely assumed you would be like, studying or something.” Chan cleared his throat, his own blush creeping up to his ears. “Really should have learned my lesson when you walked in on me.” 

Jisung tried to laugh, but it came out sounding more like a cough than anything else. “Right.”

“Anyway.” Chan shook his head. “What I wanted to say, apart from apologising, is that you shouldn’t feel embarrassed. I mean, it’s a normal bodily function and--”

“Argh, hyung  _ please _ ,” Jisung wailed, grabbing a pillow to press his face into. “Please don’t give me the ‘your body is natural and beautiful there’s nothing to be ashamed of’ talk. I had it already with my father, it was very uncomfortable, and really I’m not that embarrassed about you seeing my dick, I just have a very stupid come face and it’s haunting me that you know what I look like.”

Silence. Then, choked, as if he was trying to hide it, Chan started sniggering. Jisung looked up. Chan was bent almost double in the desk chair, arms clasped around his stomach, lips pursed as he tried to keep the sounds in. 

“What the fuck, hyung.” 

More and louder sniggering as Chan opened his mouth, attempting to answer. “I just--” snigger, snigger, “It’s just that your face--” snigger, snort, “I mean you kinda looked like--”

Jisung threw the pillow at Chan. It hit him in the head and it was a heavy down pillow, so it actually packed a bit of a punch. Still, when Chan emerged, clutching the pillow, he was still smiling, occasional snorts coming through. 

Jisung tsked. “Sure, make fun of the person who just lived through the most embarrassing moment of their  _ life _ . You sure are a great hyung, really fucking stellar.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just that you kinda looked like a baby seal with really big eyes.” Chan snorted again. “It looked kind of cute, actually.”

Jisung blinked. “You think… my come face looks cute?” Jisung’s ears were ringing. This was a fucking surreal experience. 

Chan shrugged, hugging the pillow against his chest. “I mean, sort of? I’ve seen worse, Jisung.” He smiled, though his smile looked way too teasing and mischievous for Jisung to trust it. “In fact, your face is probably among the top ten come faces I’ve seen in my life.”

Jisung was not impressed. “You’ve slept with three people in your whole life, hyung.”

Chan hummed. “Yup! And you’re a solid fourth place in the come face department.”

“Can we stop saying come face, it’s starting to lose all meaning.”

“I mean, that’s kinda the point. Don’t you feel better and less embarrassed already?”

With a start, Jisung realised Chan was right. Somewhere in their talking, in making stupid jokes and laughing, the bone-deep, face-melting embarrassed feeling that had been chilling in his stomach as a particularly unwelcome guest since Chan walked in on him had disappeared. He was still like, embarrassed about the thing in general, like as a whole, but the feeling much more closely resembled that of all his other fuck ups. “Weren’t we supposed to talk about this like adults? We just made stupid jokes.”

“We’re adults, which means we get to decide what adults talk like. We talked, we’re adults, ergo, we talked like adults. Easy.” 

Jisung hummed. “That’s like, disturbingly profound for a conversation about my dumb face.”

Chan huffed out a laugh, waving Jisung off. “Your face isn’t  _ that _ dumb.”

Jisung tsked, folding his arms. He knew he should be glad this whole thing seemed to be well on its way to being swept up and put behind them, but  _ still _ . Still, Jisung was a dumb fuck who never learnt to keeping his fucking mouth shut. “Gee, thanks. I’m sure your come face looks fucking  _ delightful _ . If it’s anything like what you looked like when I walked in on you--” then it’s fucking gorgeous, “--then mine is  _ way _ better than yours.”

At that, Chan seemed to start before bursting out laughing. “Uh-huh, sure, okay. I’m sure you’ve extensively studied your come face, but not all of us are as weird as all that.”

“It’s not weird. It’s completely natural and normal part of growing up--”

Chan cut Jisung off with a sharp hand movement. “Yeah, no, nice try though.” Chan shook his head and looked away, clearly intending to end the conversation. Jisung however felt like something was coming alive under his skin, wriggling about and putting words in his mouth before he could think to stop himself. It felt very much like the thing that had made him think of Chan while jerking off, but that thought tasted way too much of self-reflection and Jisung wasn’t about all that. 

“Do you really not know what you look like when you come, hyung?” A short pause, just enough for Chan to look back at Jisung, to narrow his eyes. Chan knew him too well, knew when he was about to start some shit. “I could tell you, you know.” The thing beneath Jisung’s skin was roaring now, drowning out the small voice of reason telling him to stop while he’s ahead; that Jisung  _ did _ have, thank you very much, Changbin. “I owe you an orgasm, you said so yourself, and you watched me come, so it’s only fair.”

Jisung could feel a faint tremor in his fingers and he clasped his hands together in front of him. It wouldn’t do for Chan to know how serious he was about this, especially when Jisung himself didn’t know how much.

Chan blinked quickly at Jisung, looked away, and laughed shrilly. “Actually, you were the one that worded it like that, not me.”

“Is that a no?” Jisung saw himself as if from afar, teetering on the edge of precipice, not knowing if his safety nets would kick in, or even if they’re there in the first place. 

Chan seemed to choke a bit. “A no to  _ what?  _ Am I just supposed to, what, jerk off with you looking at me?”

Jisung shrugged, fighting to keep the motion smooth and unbothered. He was cool as a cucumber, just a bro teasing a bro, definitely not thinking about the little kick of Chan’s hips that Jisung was almost entirely convinced actually happened. “ _ I  _ did. But, if you think you’ll struggle, I’d be happy to lend a hand.” Jisung tried to smirk, but felt it falling far shy off the mark before it even fully formed.

Chan sighed, working a hand through his hair, squinting at Jisung. “What are you doing, Jisung-ah?” His neck was red, Jisung noted. 

“I owe you, that’s all. Just paying off a debt. And as for the rest…well, it’s only fair, don’t you think? And eye for eye?”

“That’s a stupid saying. Everybody just ends up blind like that.” 

He wasn’t saying no. He wasn’t saying  _ no _ .

“You’re not saying no, hyung.” Jisung didn’t know what his own face was doing. Didn’t think he wanted to know. 

Chan breathed a sharp sigh, eyes focused just below Jisung’s face. “I just-- This is just kinda stupid and--” He stopped, drew in a breath, then turned to face Jisung head-on. “Listen, if I agree, it’s just because you interrupted me earlier and I’ve been on edge ever since. And because,” Chan swallowed, drifting down to Jisung’s hands before snapping up to his face again. “Because you owe me, okay?”

Jisung didn’t think he’d ever nodded that fast in his life. “Wait, to me watching you jerk off, or to me helping? You have to specify, hyung.”

Chan nodded. “Yeah, yeah. It’s-- It’s fine if you-- If you wanted to, to  _ help _ , that would be, be fine.”

Jisung nodded once more, then smiled, slightly. “You’re gonna have to actually look at me if I’m to see your face, hyung.”

Chan cleared his throat, then said in a suspiciously high voice, “That so?”

“Yup,” Jisung answered, popping the p. The build up to Chan’s agreement had him buzzing, but now that Chan had actually agreed to this, to Jisung helping him, giving him a hand, so to say, okay shut up inner twelve year old, Jisung couldn’t wait to get started. He scooted closer to the edge of the bed, wondering if he should fall to his knees straight away or if that would be coming on too strong. 

Chan flinched back. “Wait, are we doing it now?”

Jisung shrugged, then nodded. “I mean, yeah, why not? No time like the present, right? And you  _ said _ you were on edge.”

“Fuck. Fine,  _ fine _ , yes, okay, I guess. Do I just…?” Chan gestured vaguely towards his crotch. His flat crotch. 

Jisung’s eyebrows rose. “Are you not hard?” Jisung was at least half-hard. He didn’t know what it said about him that the thought of getting his hyung off had him that worked up. Nothing Jisung wanted to explore, at least not right that second.

“Uh, no? Was I  _ supposed _ to be?” A frantic note had crept into Chan’s voice, and Jisung feared him calling the whole thing off. He didn’t know much, but he knew doing that would make him...sad. It would make him sad. 

“It’s okay,” Jisung hurried to reassure Chan, scooting closer and closer until he actually did fall to his knees, now kneeling in between Chan’s legs and looking up. This was doing more for Jisung than he had thought it would, honestly. “I’ll help.” He set his hands hesitantly on Chan’s thighs, looking up for Chan’s slight nod before starting to rub inwards, feeling the way Chan’s muscles tensed against his hands. “I’ll help.”

When Jisung’s hands reached Chan’s inner thighs, Jisung heard a soft sound and looked up to see Chan biting his bottom lip. Chan’s eyes found his and he let out a harsh breath. “Why’d you stop?”

“Uh, what?”

A small smirk, one hand coming down to rest gently on Jisung’s head. “Don’t get me wrong, this is still kind of weird, but also kind of working for me, so, you know. Why’d you stop?” There was definite pressure against Jisung’s head now, pushing him closer, and if Jisung wasn’t hard before, he  _ definitely  _ was now. 

He followed the lead of Chan’s hand, leaning closer, breathing hotly on Chan’s crotch where there was now a slight bump. “Can I…?” Jisung moved his hands up to the waistband of Chan’s sweats, imitating what he wanted to do. Chan nodded, lifting his hips to accommodate Jisung as he tugged. It was a bit uncoordinated, the chair wobbling and Jisung almost getting kicked in the face as Chan’s foot kicked out as Jisung worked his sweatpants and boxers off, but when Jisung looked up and saw Chan, at least half-hard and flushed, waiting for him, the furthest thing from his mind was laughing.

Still, he tried, moving closer and taking Chan in hand, watching him twitch, hearing the hitch in Chan’s breath, feeling overwhelmed by the tension hanging in the air. “Someone’s excited to see me.” He tried to crack a smile, looking up at Chan to share the joke, the silly, overplayed joke, to ease the feeling growing in his chest. When he saw Chan’s face, wide-eyed and red, hand coming down to rest on Jisung’s head again, his smile faded. 

This was supposed to be a silly favour between friends. A way to settle a point, something for Jisung to look back at and laugh, maybe jerk off to once or twice. A friendly thing between bros. This was not supposed to feel like all the air was being sucked from his lungs just looking at Chan. This was not supposed to make him hard and throbbing in his boxers, was not supposed to feel this heavy in his throat. 

Jisung cleared his throat. He was already in the middle of this, now, had already pushed for this. He just had to get through it, now. Getting hard was not the worst thing that could have happened to him. It was normal, right? Seeing your bro above you with spread legs and feeling him silky smooth in your hand… Yeah, completely normal. In fact, Chan might have felt offended if Jisung  _ didn’t _ have a physical reaction to this. Right?

“Hey, earth to Jisung.” Jisung glanced up to see Chan grinning down at him, still flushed, still breathing a little quickly, but very recognisable as Chan, Jisung’s friend, the person he saw every single day and who had seen him through some of his worst and best times. “What, did you my dick disable you completely?” Jisung frowned. Chan laughed self-consciously, eyes flicking to the side. “You’ve been staring at me for a while.” He cleared his throat. “Not moving.”

“Ah, sorry, I was just…” Jisung shook his head. Nevermind. “Nevermind. Now, lemme pay you back, hyung.” It was supposed to be teasing, but it came out darker than Jisung intended, and Chan’s eyes darkened in response and  _ wow _ Jisung was not equipped to handle any of this tension or the questions swirling in his head. 

So, he didn’t. He…got Chan off. Jisung didn’t have much experience giving handjobs to other people, having mostly been on the receiving end of a scant few fumbling ones himself, but he figured it couldn’t be much different from getting himself off. He was an expert in that. 

Chan seemed to reach the edge quickly, hand still clenching spasmodically in Jisung’s hair, (which was doing absolutely  _ nothing _ for the problem in Jisung own pants), a sharp gasp, almost a moan, leaving him when Jisung twisted his hand on the upstroke. Jisung paused, grinning up at Chan. Gotcha, hyung. 

It was over fairly quickly after that, Jisung’s hand moving faster and faster over Chan’s length, thumb swiping over the head every so often, spreading his precum down his length. Jisung only realised he was chasing Chan’s little sounds when he twisted once again on the upstroke, thumb pressing lightly into the slit, and Chan let out a small, hurt sound deep in his throat that Jisung instantly knew would haunt him in his dreams until he died. 

Right after Chan made that sound, his dick started pulsing in Jisung’s hand, and he quickly moved his hand to attempt to catch his release, eyes fixed on Chan’s face which--

Well, Jisung had a new appreciation for the jawline of his best friend. And his clenched shut eyes. And the way his mouth opened. And his teeth. And his soft upper mouth. 

Jisung? Was fine. Personally? He was perfectly okay.

Chan breathed deeply afterwards, and Jisung’s eyes followed the tense lines of his body relaxing with interest, only vaguely aware of the come sliding down his inner arm, having spurted a bit away from his cupped hand. 

“Was it good?” Jisung’s voice had  _ no _ business sounding that wrecked.

Chan’s mouth relaxed into a small smile, before he looked at Jisung. “Yeah, Jisung, it was go-- It was fine.”

Jisung felt his mouth pull into a pout. It was okay, though. He was supposed to act like a little brat. “Just  _ okay? _ ” He waved his come filled and spattered hand in Chan’s face, who flinched back before his eyes went wide. “I fucking caught your semen, hyung. At least say it was okay.”

“Ah, sorry about that, I didn’t think you would-- Well I honestly thought you’d have a tissue or something.”

Jisung wrinkled his nose. “Hyung, when have you  _ ever _ known me to have that kind of foresight about  _ anything? _ ”

Chan paused, sighed, then nodded. Jisung nodded. They nodded at each other. Jisung’s hand was actually starting to feel kind of tacky and gross now, and not even Chan, still not tucked in in front of him, was enough to distract him from that. He was still hard though, so it wasn’t like he could just stand up and go clean his hand. 

“Hyung, your come face isn’t completely awful. It’s perfectly adequate, is what it is. Now, would you please exit my room so I can clean up?”

Chan let out a soft laugh, much more relaxed about the situation than Jisung had thought he would be, and stood up, tucking himself back in. At the door he stopped, turned, grinned at Jisung, and said, “You were okay, Jisung. Verging on good.” And then the motherfucker winked and left Jisung to deal with a hand full of semen that wasn’t his and the fact that he kind of wanted to jerk off again. 

He did. Jerk off again, that is.  _ After _ he cleaned his hand and arm,  _ obviously _ . 

And then promptly laid on his bed and plotted how he could get Chan to come in front of him again. 

It was just because he found it hot, okay? It was just because he found Chan to be, objectively, hot, like any sane person would, and it had already happened once, so why not again, right? 

**Han Jisung**

If I, theoretically, kinda sorta gave my roommate like

A handjob

How can I get it to happen again?

**Seo Changbin**

Why are you, specifically, like this

Wait

Do you and Chan have a thing????

Since when???

HOW????

**Han Jisung**

No. 

Not yet? 

It was a weird set of circumstances that will 

Probably

Never happen again

But how do I make the handjob thing happen again?

**Seo Changbin**

I want to talk more about this

I  _ really _ want to talk more about this

But Felix is here

And he’s more important than you

And whatever shit you got yourself into this time

We’ll talk tomorrow

Try not to do anything stupid

Well, anything  _ else _ stupid, before that

**Han Jisung**

I should feel offended on multiple levels but

One: get that dick

Two: I Will Try

**Seo Changbin**

Felix is a FRIEND

Granted I may have a teeny tiny crush on him

But that’s not the point

**Han Jisung**

Get It


	2. Chapter 2

Jisung folded the laundry. 

He sat in their small living room, one eye on the TV screen showing some reality show rerun, and the other on Chan moving around the kitchen, humming to his music like he always did while making food, even wiggling his hips a little bit. It was all frighteningly normal, and Jisung would almost have believed that afternoon hadn’t happened, if it weren’t for the fact that he seriously doubted his brain was creative enough to come up with something like that on its own.

That, and the actually absurd amount of used tissues in his room. 

“You want some spaghetti?” Chan called, turned away from him, stirring something on the stove.

"What kind?" 

"The kind with sauce."

Jisung sighed. He loved that Chan didn't care about sharing his food. Jisung made enough money to eke by on ramen and the odd apple or green vegetable here or there, but if he did, he didn't have money to spare for anything else. And by  _ anything else _ , Jisung meant wearing sneakers without socks and trying to cover up holes in his shirt with carefully positioned backpacks and perpetually held textbooks. 

His parents weren't poor, it was just really hard for them to send any money along with paying tuition. So, it was nice of Chan to share his food (and his apartment and his friends and his  _ life _ and--), but the boy's cooking repertoire was extremely limited. 

"Did you just mix tomato sauce with a bunch of other stuff again?" 

Chan grinned as he moved into the living room, holding two bowls heaped with spaghetti, sprinkled with cheese and, were those sausages? "Yup! It's delicious." 

It was. Not that healthy, but they were students and didn't have to care about that yet. At least, Jisung hoped so, because he didn't want his body to reflect any of the bad eating decisions he's made in the scant two years he's been in university. 

Jisung blinked up at Chan, happily shoveling food into his mouth. Chan had been in uni for about three years longer than he'd been, and he seemed fine. He flashed back to that afternoon, Chan's thigh muscles flexing under his hands. He choked on a noodle and waved Chan's concerned face off. 

Yeah, Chan seemed fine. 

Jisung wondered if he was supposed to forget about what happened. Obviously, going by the way Chan was sprawled out on the couch, scrolling through his phone while slurping up noodles, Chan didn’t seem that bothered about it. Or, if he was, he was a way better actor than Jisung ever gave him credit for. 

Jisung had seen him crack in under five minutes under the pressure of Felix asking calmly and consistently about where his cheese sticks had gone. To be fair, he might have wanted to see Jisung get caught, might have gotten some sick joy out of watching Felix chase Jisung around the apartment armed with a throw pillow and a seemingly endless supply of mints he kept throwing at Jisung’s head, but still. 

Chan didn’t like to lie, had often told Jisung about the squirmy feeling he got in his stomach whenever he was made to or had no choice but to, so it only made sense for Chan not to be a good actor. Right? He couldn’t hide his feelings about  _ anything _ from Jisung, right? Not Jisung, who had seen him throw up in the bushes at the side of his parents’ house and had to sneak him into his room without his parents noticing, right?

Right, of course. 

They were chill. They were  _ chill _ . Chan was  _ not bothered. _ It was apparently completely normal to get a weirdly intense but also actually just kind of weird handjob from your best friend who may or may not have been fantasizing about him. Not that Chan knew about that part. 

Jisung blew a breath from between pursed lips. He needed to fucking  _ chill _ .

“Are you okay?”

Chan was looking at him. Chan was looking at him with that frown and that flattened mouth that meant he was worried.

“Uh, yeah! I’m fine! So fine! Why would I not be!” Jisung could hear the way the exclamation marks pinged in his head. There were too many of them.  _ Way _ too many of them. 

“I don’t know, dude, you seem… not fine.”

Chan was still  _ looking _ at him and okay, Jisung thought he was strong enough for this, that he could just  _ do  _ stuff, but he very much could not and he was dumb to think that and he needed to go to his room now and talk to Changbin tomorrow and figure out how to be chill with Chan. Like it was before. Before, when Jisung might still have had a more than academic interest and appreciation for the way Chan’s forearms led to indecent thoughts, but that was neither here nor there, was it.

Stuffing a fork full of spaghetti into his mouth, Jisung got up and made a series of elaborate signs and gestures to Chan while backing away to his room. Signs and gestures that he hoped conveyed ‘I am actually so chill and stress free right now that I need to go have a nap with this bowl of food’ and  _ not _ ‘I need to go stress eat this and also my stash of hidden snacks  _ and _ talk to a bro who I have not had a sexual encounter with before I look you in the eyes again.’

He hoped it came through okay.

Hoping to god that Chan felt either chill enough about the whole thing to leave him be, or just weirded out enough himself (but not too much, that wouldn’t be good for Jisung’s ego), to not come after Jisung, Jisung plopped down on his bed, settled his bowl on his lap, and pulled a party pack of chips from under his bed. 

He was always pleasantly surprised whenever he remembered his stash. He would buy a little something for his stash every time he went shopping, another luxury to thank Chan and his parents for, and promptly forgot about it as soon as it disappeared under his bed. 

See, Jisung had the art of hiding food down to a  _ science _ at this point. At home he typically had to hide it from his two younger brothers and on occasion his older sister. You don’t get snacks in a household with siblings if you don’t steal and scheme and connive about it. You just don’t. That, or make alliances with your siblings, but the twins always picked each other, and at five years Jisung’s senior, his sister was  _ just _ old enough to not think it was cool to side with her little brother over her  _ baby _ brothers.

Point is, his stash had two chocolate bars, some chewy candy, and three party bags of chips in it at the moment and all in all, this was not a bad way to spend the night. 

**Han Jisung**

My sweetest bro

My loveliest friend

The starlight in the sky

How are you?

**Hwang Hyunjin**

See, all the things you say are true

I am indisputably all of those things

But you are a brat

So what do you want

**Han Jisung**

I am insulted

Like a slap in the face

I am one of the nicest people you know

**Hwang Hyunjin**

I hang out with models and wannabe actors

This is not the achievement you think it is

Also not true in actual fact CHAN is the nicest person I know

**Han Jisung**

I said ONE of keep up

**Hwang Hyunjin**

There you are

Now, I just ate an edible and am well on my way to getting stoned

So please tell me what you want so I can tell you to fuck off

**Han Jisung**

This is EXACTLY why I didn’t invite you to my 11th birthday party

**Hwang Hyunjin**

YOU TOLD ME IT WAS BECAUSE YOUR MOM DIDN’T LIKE ME

Which I should have known was a lie in hindsight

She loves me

**Han Jisung**

She does.

It’s insulting

She has THREE sons like please woman

**Hwang Hyunjin**

Jisung

Are you okay?

**Han Jisung**

Just

You know

Pining

**Hwang Hyunjin**

Ah

You know what my opinion on this is

**Han Jisung**

Yeah

I know

**Hwang Hyunjin**

Sigh

Do you  _ want _ to talk about it again tho

**Han Jisung**

Not really

Just needed a distraction while I eat too much candy

**Hwang Hyunjin**

I hate your metabolism

It’s a model’s dream

And it’s wasted on you

**Han Jisung**

Yes

**Hwang Hyunjin**

Okay, leave me alone now

The ceiling fan is starting to stutter

**Han Jisung**

Goodnight, Hyunjin

Jisung sighed, locking his phone. This was the problem, going to university with a big group of childhood friends. You all  _ knew _ each other too well. Jisung knew that Hyunjin talked a big game, that he strutted into a room and looked at you like he knew all the secrets of the universe. Jisung also knew that Hyunjin’s first kiss had been with Changbin a year ago, and that he had been pretending not to care that the other was gone over Felix ever since. 

On the flip side, Hyunjin also knew that Jisung had been thinking inappropriate thoughts about Chan since Jisung was about 14 years old. It was never going to go anywhere, Jisung knew that. Chan was three years older than him, an unimaginable distance when you’re 14 and anyone older than you looked like they had all the answers in the world. It was never going to go anywhere, so Jisung kept it at what it was. Just a few harmless fantasies to help him get off every now and again.

It was manageable. It was fine. 

And then this afternoon happened and suddenly it was as if he was 14 all over again, trying not to stare too long at the curve of Chan’s jaw, trying not to care that Chan seemed incapable of wearing sweatpants that weren’t two sizes too small. 

This afternoon was an anomaly. It was a weird, once in a lifetime occurrence, and the sooner Jisung made his peace with that, the sooner things could go back to normal and the sooner the smell of cinnamon and vanilla would stop giving him flashbacks. 

Jisung turned over on his bed, punching his pillow into submission beneath his head, slotting another pillow between his thighs. His breathing was starting to even out, mind floating between Chan’s hands, Jisung’s budget for the week, the attractive dip in Chan’s shoulders, the pile of books on his bedside table he’d been meaning to get to…

Shit!

Jisung flew up with a few choice muttered curses, glaring at his desk. He  _ still _ hadn’t finished his  _ fucking _ Calculus. 

\---

“--and apparently everything’s fine for him, because why wouldn’t it be, it’s all fine, everything’s fine, and I didn’t do my Calculus, well, not correctly at least, and Chan was so!” Jisung gestured helplessly in the air. 

Changbin was sitting next to him, sipping on a gross health slash energy slash workout smoothie thing. Jisung was draped as bonelessly as possible across the hard bench, board shorts bunching up around his thighs, his tank top fluttering lightly in the breeze. He had kicked his flip flops beneath the bench about five minutes after meeting Changbin, ignoring Changbin’s judgemental gaze. They were suffocating him, okay?

(“You look like a 12 year old,” Changbin had said when he saw Jisung.

“Uwu, I know, I have a youthful face,” Jisung had replied, folding his hands underneath his chin and preening.

Changbin was unimpressed.)

Changbin hummed in response, swirling his cup of goey green  _ stuff _ . “So, let me get this straight--”

“Haha, good luck with that.” Jisung shot finger guns at Changbin. Changbin looked at him. Jisung lowered his hands, though it was  _ not _ in shame, just for the record. He just didn’t want Changbin to actually strangle him. Survival instinct at its finest.

“ _ Anyway _ , you and Chan both walked in on each other jerking off, except when it happened to you your exhibitionist tendencies came out to play and you came. In front of Chan.” Changbin paused again, ostensibly to take a sip of his smoothie, but really just to see Jisung squirm, he was sure. 

“I don’t have exhibitionist tendencies,” Jisung muttered, pouting down at his hands pulling at a loose thread in his shirt. 

“Uh-huh, sure.”

Jisung rolled his eyes. “Just because you study psychology doesn’t  _ actually _ mean you can read minds, you know? You  _ don’t _ know everything.”

“You’re wrong, I  _ can _ read minds, but, more importantly, I’ve known  _ you  _ since you were 15 and buddy, you have an exhibitionist streak a mile wide. Whose idea was it again to go skinny-dipping in the ocean at  _ 3 in the afternoon? _ ”

Changbin had an expression on his face like he had all the pieces that made up Jisung on a plate, arranging them at his leisure and reading them like an old favourite story. Jisung didn’t like that at  _ all _ , and not only because he couldn’t seem to figure himself out even a little bit. Anyway, he was fairly certain he was more complex than Changbin was making him out to be. 

“That was a joke and a dare and none of you assholes took me up on it anyway.”

“You still did it.”

“For the  _ vine _ , hyung, jesus.” Jisung pulled a face at Changbin, who retaliated until they were both giggling, trying to outdo the other. Still laughing, Jisung pushed himself into a more upright position. “Okay, stop being cruel to me, the best person on this planet--”

“Debatable.”

\--and actually give me some helpful advice for once in your life.”

Changbin hummed, then kicked at Jisung’s toes trying to squirm beneath his thigh. “I mean, last time I told you not to do a striptease in front of your TA you flipped me off and did it anyway.”

“I was drunk. 

“So was I. So was Minho-hyung. He tells me he still has nightmares about you ripping your shirt open in front of him and then throwing up in his lap. You’re lucky he turned out to be a cool dude and didn’t hold that over you.”

Jisung opened his mouth. Closed it. Thought of the vaguely threatening texts Minho would send him before class to get him a coffee or else. “You would be surprised. He’s vindictive.”

Changbin shrugged, unconcerned at the various plights Jisung had to go through daily, purely on the basis of Jisung being himself. “It would serve you right.”

“Advice, Changbin. I need it. How do I get Chan to agree to… whatever that was again?”

Changbin shoved Jisung away once again, eliciting a grumbling from the other who was simply trying to feel the difference between their biceps, and turned to face Jisung completely, folding his legs criss-cross. 

“How are you doing that and not falling off the bench?”

“I have a stronger core than you do.”

Jisung tried to cross his legs too, pleasantly surprised when he didn’t immediately tip over like he thought he would. “Nah, we’re just short.”

Changbin tsked. “Hey, asshat, do you actually want my advice or did you just come out here to waste time between classes?”

“A bit of both. But, please, I would actually very much like some advice.” Jisung swallowed. “I don’t want things to be awkward between me and him. I  _ really _ don’t want that to happen.” Jisung clenched his hands in his shorts, drawing them up tight enough that he was sure to leave red lines on his skin. 

“You said Chan was acting cool about all this, right? That it was just you who seemed to be freaking out?”

Jisung nodded, gloom settling in his chest. Changbin didn’t know the depth of his inadvisable thirsty pining for Chan. Not the way Hyunjin did. Changbin knew Jisung thought Chan was attractive; to be honest, who didn’t, but he didn’t know that Jisung used to stare at himself in the mirror, telling himself he  _ wouldn’t _ fall for the son of old family friends.

It was cliche, and stupid, and Chan would never,  _ ever _ look at him that way, and besides. Jisung was well aware that the current running underneath his skin, that drove him to do things and say things and just… be himself was not something desirable. Had known since he was 8 years old and he had watched a bigger, older boy sneer at him and his silly games and stories. Known since he was 9 and the stories about him had circulated widely enough that even being put in a new class did nothing for his social acceptance.

He was still surprised that Hyunjin, at 10 years of age, had wanted to be friends with him. The other kids didn’t exactly avoid him, since he was still good for a bit of fun, still good for painting as a scapegoat in play, but still. It should have been obvious that you don’t make friends with Han Jisung. He’d asked, once, why Hyunjin made friends with him when he was so  _ obviously _ a loser. He’d been smirking as he asked the question, playing it off, making himself and the question seem smaller, less important. Hyunjin had frowned at him, shook his head, and called him an idiot. 

It wasn’t like he was wrong about that, so Jisung had simply laughed and went on with his day, until later, just before he went to sleep, he got the message from Hyunjin:  _ I’m friends with you cause you’re the only one that’s not boring. Now go to sleep and stop asking stupid questions _ .

And that had been them ever since. They weren’t exactly best friends, but they were the type of friends that couldn’t ever really stop being friends. They knew each other too well, knew the cracks and the inside jokes and the ways in which the other could bend and break. They knew each other well enough to know how to put each other back together again, even if they bitched about it the whole time, and that wasn’t something you just gave up, just like that. 

“--and that should-- Hey, are you even listening?”

There was a tap to Jisung’s knee and he looked up to see Changbin, all in a cross, arms, legs, face, looking at him. 

“Hm? Oh, sorry. I kinda drifted off there for a second. Didn’t mean to. Sorry. What were you saying?”

Changbin narrowed his eyes at Jisung, before sighing. “Pay attention this time. I was  _ saying _ , since Chan seems to be so chill about this, you should be too.”

“But that’s the  _ problem-- _ ”

“I’m not done!” Changbin rolled his eyes. “I should have known you weren’t paying attention by the way you weren’t interrupting me every five seconds.”

Jisung mimed zipping his mouth shut and gestured encouragingly for Changbin to continue. 

“Anyway, my proposition is this: since Chan is being so chill about this, be chill about it too, and suggest it again, in the context of trading favours.”

Jisung opened his mouth. He closed his mouth. He tilted his head at Changbin in confusion. 

“You know! You said it happened the first time cause you ‘owed’ him an orgasm, or whatever which, by the way, simultaneously the best and stupidest reason I’ve ever heard to give a handjob. So, you ask him to do another chore for you, and, as payment, or like, a favour? You’ll give him an orgasm.” Changbin grinned like he had just discovered the winning formula for the lottery.

“That’s… so stupid,” Jisung deadpanned, hand coming up to massage the bridge of his nose. “How would I even-- He would  _ never _ \--” He cut himself off, staring at Changbin. Slowly, still holding eye contact, he said, “This? Is stupid.”

Changbin nodded, still smiling widely. Jisung considered. 

“This is very stupid.” He blew out a breath, staring at his hands. This was  _ so _ stupid. “It… just might work.”

\---

It was Thursday evening. Thursday evening meant washing sheets and scrubbing the shower. Jisung used to hate Thursday evenings, even if he and Chan traded off on this particular chore each week. Jisung used to hate Thursday evenings, but at the moment he was holding a ball of sheets in his hands, shifting from foot to foot in front of the door, waiting for the scuffle of Chan’s shoes against the welcome mat outside to announce his arrival, a ball of anticipation rivalling the sheets clogging up his throat.

He wasn’t planning on making Chan do all the chores. That would be cruel beyond what Jisung felt capable of, especially since this was supposed to be fun. Nice. Rewarding. For the both of them, even if Chan didn’t know that. He’d still scrub the shower. Chan had done it last week, after all. It was a gruelling job that did nothing for Jisung’s back and reminded him each time that his core was a weak little bitch, and he couldn’t let Chan do it two times in a row. 

Chan’s chores for the night were washing the dishes. That was all. Sure, he’d already washed the dishes last night, but Chan had always been able to handle the squishy bits of food that always got caught in the water better than Jisung could. Jisung handled it, because he had to, but he hated that squishy, sometimes clinging texture of wet food so,  _ so _ much. So, if he accepted Jisung’s offer, such as it was, all he had to do would be to wash the dishes and wait for an hour or so in the laundry room. It was never that much of a hardship, since Chan liked to read books while he waited, and Jisung liked to play games on his phone. 

It was a pleasant enough chore, as they go. 

It was a fair trade, Jisung thought, hugging the ball of fabric closer to his chest. As fair as he could make it anyway.

At that moment, Jisung heard the telltale scuffle at the front door, heard the beep of the door code, saw Chan’s head poking through the door. Taking a deep breath, Jisung spoke before the actual monumental stupidity, the actual stupendous silliness of the plan he and Changbin had come up with fully hit him. 

“Chan-hyung, I have a proposition.”

Chan froze from where he was toeing off his shoes, glancing up at Jisung with a frown. “Jisung…?”

Quickly, Jisung, quickly, before his better reason finally woke up and shut him up and maybe stopped him from ever getting a repeat from the previous afternoon. 

“If you do the sheets for me tonight I’ll give you another blowjob.” Heat flashed ice cold through Jisung and he hissed through his teeth. “I meant handjob. But, uh, a blowjob is fine if you prefer that.” 

When he had practised that, or some variation of that, since it  _ definitely _ had not included the word blowjob before, in his mirror, he’d spent a long time forcing his face into a casual expression, his voice into careless, nonchalant cadences. He had sounded normal in his room. As normal as one could sound, saying that. When the moment came, however, Jisung could feel the way his voice was going to crack before the first word was fully out of his mouth, scripted words flying out his head and leaving a horrible blankness behind.

Chan blinked rapidly at him. Jisung tried not to choke as his throat closed up.

“Uh, what?” Chan laughed a bit as he said that, as if he had heard Jisung wrong, as if he was giving Jisung a chance to retract his words, his offer. 

Jisung saw that. He recognised it. He appreciated that Chan thought Jisung was smart enough to take what was being offered him. Jisung hated disappointing Chan.

“You heard me.”

Chan looked at Jisung, then shook his head, finished taking off his shoes, stepping in and past Jisung to the kitchen. Jisung followed behind him, sheets still clutched in his hands, watching as Chan filled a glass with water, taking a big swallow before turning to face Jisung again. Jisung tried to pretend he hadn’t been staring at Chan’s Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. 

“Jisung.” 

Jisung waited, but that seemed all Chan was capable of saying at that moment, his mouth still gaping, a confused furrow on his forehead. Jisung clutched at the sheets until he could feel a scrape across his knuckle split open.

“Hyung?”

Chan took another gulp from the glass, emptying the glass this time, setting it down with exaggerated careful movements. “Jisung,  _ what _ are you  _ doing?  _ What are you  _ saying? _ ”

Trying not to squirm under Chan’s bewildered gaze proved ultimately futile and Jisung sighed. “That… I’m-- I wouldn’t mind a repeat of yesterday?” His breath wheezed through his lungs in a panicked exhale. “I mean! The chores part. I know that it would be unfair of me to ask you to scrub the shower in exchange for only a blow--handjob, but I thought you wouldn’t mind doing the sheets.” He cleared his throat, eyes darting to the floor, the ceiling, settling on Chan’s collarbone. “The extra time I got yesterday was, uh, good, so I thought you wouldn’t mind if we set up a, a system? If you’re okay with it, of course?”

“That’s--” Chan cut himself off, leaning back against the counter. He still had his backpack on, and with the way he was leaning his shirt and backpack strap shifted enough so that Jisung could see the angry red mark it had left on him. Chan always overloaded his bag.

For some reason, that little detail about Chan’s day, that proof about how long and probably taxing his day had been made something in Jisung shrivel. He’d spent the whole day making stupid, convoluted plans about how to get Chan’s dick in his hands again, taking breaks only to go to class and try not to cry as a Calculus tutor let him know just how much he  _ didn’t _ know, while Chan was probably doing like. Actual work. Was probably tired and not in the mood for Jisung.

Jisung was just psyching himself up to say, ‘never mind’, to say, ‘you know, actually, that was a joke, silly me, you know how I am, haha’, when Chan spoke.

“So, what, each time you don’t wanna do a chore you do a, a--” he stuttered, face colouring red, “a sexual favour for me?”

Jisung made a face. “You make it sound more dirty than it did in my head.”

“ _ What did it sound like in your head? _ ”

“More like a favour-- Okay you know what, I see where you got the sexual favours from.” Chan scoffed at him. Jisung bit his lip. It felt the same as the day before. The heat coiling in his belly, that  _ thing _ under his skin telling him to push harder, go further. “Hyung, you didn’t say no.”

Chan was still looking at him, though the look in his eyes had turned decidedly less shell-shocked and more like Jisung’s favourite Chan. This was the Chan that had gotten Hyunjin and Jisung a beer each when they were 15 and he’d just turned 18, mischief in his eyes even as he insisted on staying with them while they drank. This was the Chan that had distracted their parents while Jisung planted whoopie cushions under every seat in the house. This was the Chan that had first inspired those not so bro feelings in Jisung. 

“You’re willing to, to do all these things for me, to me, so I’ll do the chores for you?”

“I’m willing,” Jisung said. I might cry if you say no, he didn’t say. Please don’t look at me in disgust, his head whispered. 

“Can I do the same for you when I don’t want to vacuum and mop the floors?” 

Jisung choked a bit, heart thundering, before he found his words. “You would… want to do that?”

“An eye for an eye, right?”

“I thought you said that just made everyone blind.”

Chan shrugged. “You shouldn’t listen to me, I never know what I’m saying or doing.”

“That’s unfortunate, neither do I,” Jisung laughed. Was this really happening? Was Chan really agreeing to this? Was this really Jisung’s life? Teenage him would  _ kill _ to be current him if he pulled this off. “So, will you do the sheets?”

Chan nodded and broke his gaze. He slipped his backpack to the floor and Jisung felt the impact in his bones as it landed with a thud. Chan leaned back and looked up, spreading his arms and legs. “Well, get to it then.”

The sheets didn’t make a sound as they dropped. In fact, everything around Jisung seemed to go a bit muted as he stepped forward, forward, until he was standing in front of Chan. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, didn’t know where to touch first. What had they settled on, again? Had they settled on anything?

“I don’t know--” He cut himself off. He didn’t want Chan to think he was unsure about this, that he didn’t know what he was doing (even though he definitely didn’t). “What do you want?”

“I mean, what happened yesterday was fine, I guess, so…” Chan trailed off. 

“You ‘guess’,” Jisung muttered, though he stepped closer anyway. There was no getting around the fact that this was a bit awkward, no getting around the fact that this felt decidedly more real than before. Yesterday had been impulsive, spur of the moment, classic Jisung. It had been over too quick to be  _ really _ awkward. Yesterday was supposed to be an anomaly. 

Today was pre-planned, was something Jisung had psyched himself up for. He didn’t know what to do with his hands. 

“If you changed your mind, I can just--”

Jisung grabbed his hip as he tried to move away, keeping Chan in place. He was  _ not _ going to mess this up just because he had some nerves. He’d done this before, and it was fine, and Chan had agreed, had even seemed somewhat enthusiastic about it, so this was  _ fine _ . Jisung’s eyes flicked up to Chan’s, saw the concern in his eyes, and dropped to his knees.

Chan gasped, his hand once again finding Jisung’s hair, once again clenching. They hadn’t agreed on anything, hadn’t specified that it would be anything beyond a handjob, but Jisung already felt more at ease on his knees. Upright, he was too close to Chan’s face, too close to the curve of his neck, the jut of his jaw. Upright, there was too much temptation, and Jisung was a weak, weak boy. 

Down here, he could focus on the task at hand. Down here, he could pretend that it was just a handjob, that he was  _ just _ a horny little shit that Chan was indulging, instead of someone who had been fucking  _ yearning _ since before he was old enough to understand what all of this was. 

Contending with a button and zip instead of just sliding sweatpants off his hips proved a bit awkward, since Chan had to shimmy to get them off, but they went quick enough, hanging around Chan’s knees as Jisung stared at him. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I want to give you a blowjob.” Jisung didn’t know what he was going to say before he said it. He only knew that, the moment the words left his mouth, it was what he wanted to do. He  _ wanted _ to get his mouth on Chan. He couldn’t kiss his lips, that would be taking it too far, but he could do  _ this _ . He could, maybe he could nuzzle Chan’s thigh, a little bit? Maybe press a soft kiss, no, not even that, just a press of his lips, to the muscle he could see jumping in Chan’s inner thighs. 

The hand in his hair pulled a little as he spoke, and he looked up to see Chan staring down at him, eyes wide, pupils blown, neck and face splotched bright red. Jisung belatedly realised he should ask Chan if he was okay with it. “Is that--?”

“What the  _ fuck _ , yes, fuck,” Chan whispered, and his face was too far away, so there was no way Jisung could feel his hot breath catching on the goosebumps on his neck, but somehow he  _ did _ . “Jisung-ah,” Chan laughed, breathless, as a tiny sound punched its way out from Jisung’s throat as he leaned forward, completing his mission to get Chan’s skin against his face. “Jisung-ah, you want to that bad?”

Jisung pulled his face from Chan’s thigh with real effort and his eyes felt heavy-lidded as he looked up at Chan. “I, um…” He swallowed, eyes flicking back down, down to Chan’s knees straining against the limits of his jeans, obviously wanting to spread wider. And who was Jisung to deny them that, he thought, slightly deliriously, as he worked Chan’s jeans down until they were pooling around his feet. Chan was already hard.

“Okay,” Jisung heard from above and the hand in his head pet him gently. “Okay, that’s fine. Go on.”

Something about the way Chan spoke clinked a false note in Jisung’s chest, as if it suddenly realised it had left Jisung too exposed, had shown too much of his hand. Jisung should care more about that than he did. Jisung  _ would _ care more about it the second his mind was filled with anything other than the overwhelming need to touch and taste as much of Chan as he could. 

That came later, however. That came after. What came now was:

Jisung, leaning in, licking tentatively at the glistening head of Chan’s dick. Jisung, murmuring apologetically as he got his mouth around Chan’s dick and forgot to mind his teeth. Jisung’s hands gripped tightly on Chan’s thighs, tight enough that, in some corner of Jisung’s brain, he thought he might leave a mark. Chan’s hand, petting soothingly on Jisung’s head, in his hair, even as his hips started to stutter, choking Jisung a little bit. 

Jisung reveled in the feeling of Chan’s dick throbbing in his mouth, one hand coming up to start gently fondling at his balls. Chan to let out a long, low moan in response, and Jisung felt a little shell-shocked, a little awed, as he felt Chan’s balls draw up tight, even as Chan’s hand gripped his head and pulled him back. Jisung continued to cup Chan’s balls as the hand that had been gripping the parts of Chan’s dick his mouth couldn’t reach sped up and Chan fucked into his hand once, twice, three times, before he was coming. 

Jisung was too preoccupied to even  _ think _ of trying to catch his come as he did the last time, so it splattered against the floor, on Chan’s jeans, a fair bit of it even landing on Jisung’s chin.

He found he did not mind.

Chan seemed to go a bit boneless afterwards, and Jisung was just starting to wonder at which point it would be acceptable for him to get up from knees that were starting to complain when Chan’s head tilted downwards and he gasped. 

“I-- on your  _ face-- _ ” Chan seemed lost for words, hands starting to move ineffectually towards Jisung’s face, as if he wanted to wipe it off. 

Jisung’s chest gave a worrying (pathetic) thump at the frown of concern on Chan’s face and he sprang up, ignoring the protest from his knees and swiped at his own face. “Ah, that’s on me.” Jisung tried a laugh. It didn’t come out half bad. “Forgot to try and catch it.”

He should say something more. He should--

Chan was looking at him strangely. His head was tilted, and his mouth was set, and there was something in his  _ eyes _ and--

“Well!” Jisung said. He was too loud. Always too loud. But that was fine, since it seemed to snap Chan out of whatever headspace or mindset or, god forbid,  _ thought _ he was having about Jisung as he shook his head and blinked quickly, before reaching down to pull up his pants. “I think it’s only fair you clean up the floor, since it was you who made the mess.”

“Uh, sure. Sorry about ah,” Chan gestured somewhat sheepishly to his own face. 

_ I don’t care _ , Jisung thought.  _ I’d let you do it again. I’d let you come  _ in _ my mouth _ . 

“It’s fine,” Jisung smiled, waving it away. “Guess I’m just,” he winked obnoxiously, smirking as wide as he could, “ _ that _ good.”

“Hm, sure,” Chan agreed, a smile etching its way onto his face.

“Well,” Jisung clapped his hands together. “This has been fun, but I  _ do _ have a shower to scrub.”

“What about…” Chan let his eyes drop to where Jisung was obviously tenting his sweats.

“Nah, this wasn’t about me.”  _ Liar _ . “Besides, that shower won’t scrub itself.” With that, Jisung turned around and sashayed off to the bathroom, making sure to swish his hips dramatically, something in him settling as Chan huffed a laugh behind him.

See? They were still fine. Still bros. Still laughing at silly jokes and not taking each other too seriously. Jisung was a  _ genius _ .

**Han Jisung**

I am a GENIUS

**Seo Changbin**

Agree to disagree

Wait

DID YOU DO THE THING??

DID IT WORK????!!!

**Han Jisung**

Yes, and yes

See: me, a genius

**Seo Changbin**

Excuse you I was the one that came up with the plan

**Han Jisung**

And I was the one that  _ executed  _ it

So again

I’m a genius

Also it was less a plan than a vague suggestion

That I took and refined into pure genius

**Seo Changbin**

Sure

Sooooooo

Is this gonna be a thing now?

**Han Jisung**

I think so?

Chan seemed pretty okay with the idea

**Seo Changbin**

I mean, why wouldn’t he be

Free orgasms

**Han Jisung**

One: He pays for them in chores

Two: he pays for the  _ technique _

**Seo Changbin**

Bro

You don’t  _ have _ any technique

You forget who you tell about all your sexual exploits

Including the one where the girl got tired and just got herself off and left

**Han Jisung**

That was a low point in my life

And i’d thank you not to bring it up again

**Seo Changbin**

Anyway

This is good, right?

**Han Jisung**

Yeah!

Things are going great

Jisung swallowed heavily at the knot in his throat, thinking about the way Chan had spoken so softly to him, almost gently, almost consolingly. Yeah, things were going great. This was, this was just  _ fine _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't come at me about the type of food they eat pls I'm drawing from my own memory of me and my friend being hungry little goblin who literally just emptied a bottle of tomato sauce on some spaghetti and ate it. At least I gave them sausages.
> 
> Twitter: [googlyeyes1507](https://twitter.com/googlyeyes1507)

**Author's Note:**

> This is gonna be at least like, three chapters. I wasn't supposed to post this chapter already, but I like validation a lot, so hmmmm here it is I guess. 
> 
> Twitter: [googlyeyes1507](https://twitter.com/googlyeyes1507)


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